


Rainy Night

by pkmntrainer_alex



Series: Conquests [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Sex, Creampie, F/M, Fingerfucking, Light Angst, Sloppy Seconds, You can actually pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half, ntr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkmntrainer_alex/pseuds/pkmntrainer_alex
Summary: Nami meets back up with Sanji immediately after her previous rendezvous
Relationships: Nami/Vinsmoke Sanji
Series: Conquests [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776859
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	Rainy Night

**Author's Note:**

> \- I will not be tagging this as cheating/whatever/etc, as there is no established romantic relationship between Sanji and Nami here.  
> \- The text for the video Sanji is watching is lifted directly from the BA Gourmet Makes video for Choco Tacos, if you want to watch it or whatever: https://www.bonappetit.com/video/watch/gourmet-makes-pastry-chef-attempts-to-make-gourmet-choco-tacos-part-2?c=series  
> \- I tagged this with what I thought fit for it but if anyone has any recommended tags/warnings/etc that they think would fit, PLEASE let me know.

“So, instead of making hot fudge, I was thinking about making chocolate ganache, um, which doesn't quite have the same texture -” Sanji sat in the driver’s seat, legs crossed and up on the dash as he watched more videos on his phone. The rain was beginning to come down hard, but Sanji didn’t mind. The inside of the car was a pretty comfortable temperature, and he had found an entire YouTube channel dedicated to making gourmet versions of snack foods. It was the perfect thing to binge while Nami was visiting her friend. She’d told him it was okay to drop her off and she could find her own ride home, but he could hardly do that to  _ Nami _ . “ -But would freeze similarly. However, I don't have heavy cream. So, but I do have creme fraiche and milk, so I was thinking  _ maybe... _ ”

Sanji knew she'd be fine as long as she stayed with the friend she was visiting, but he also knew Ichiji lived in the same building. And Sanji had caught his brother watching Nami in a way he didn’t like, the few times they’d run into him when their whole friend group was hanging out. Nami had also looked  _ particularly _ stunning that evening, in a short dress and heels. What kind of gentleman would just leave his lady love alone dressed like that, especially with his lecherous older brother in the area? 

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a loud, frantic tapping noise at the passenger door. Surprised, he jerked his head sideways to see Nami in the rain, rapping her knuckles hard against the glass. Dropping his phone, Sanji sat upright properly in his seat, running his hand all along his door for the unlock button, which he quickly pressed when his fingers happened upon it. He should’ve left the door unlocked - that was  _ so stupid _ of him.

“Thanks.” Shaking the rain out of her hair, Nami slipped into the passenger seat, shivering slightly. Her face was flushed and she looked exhausted, slumping against the back of the seat and dropping her arms at her side. Her skin was damp, he could tell that even in the relative darkness of the car. Sanji hoped she hadn’t been in the rain for too long. “Sorry for making you wait so long.”

“I’d wait even longer for you, if I needed to,” Sanji cheerfully volunteered as he picked his phone up from the floor, pausing his video. Over the rain pounding on the car, he could hear Nami’s heavy breathing. “Are you okay? You didn’t run all the way back down here for me, did you?”

Nami blushed slightly at Sanji’s suggestion, and he felt his heart warm. Even though he never would’ve wanted her to inconvenience herself for him, the thought of Nami realizing how long she’d kept him waiting and then rushing back to his side was intoxicating. “Oh, I mean...I rushed mostly because it was raining but yeah, I felt bad keeping you waiting…”

“You don’t have to feel bad! Like I said, I’d wait even longer for -” Sanji stopped short as he took in Nami from head to toe. Her shoes were the same, her hair was up as it had been, but he could’ve sworn she was wearing a red dress when she’d gotten out of the car. Now, she was dressed in black, with sleeves rolled up past her elbows. It looked more like an oversize black button-up shirt than a proper dress, and Sanji could see where the fabric was being pulled taut at her hips and chest, with a high collar and a V-cut that dipped into her cleavage. The bottom scarcely covered her ass. Whatever it was, it looked positively tantalizing on her, and gave Sanji a peculiar feeling in his gut. “Wait even...even longer...for you…”

“Oh would you have?” Nami gave him a devilish wink, and Sanji felt his heart thump heavily in his chest. There was a familiar throbbing between his legs, and he tried to shift so Nami couldn’t see as his face burned. Before he could fully turn his face away, Nami reached a hand to his cheek, brushing her fingers along his jawline. “What else would you do for me, Sanji?”

If his face had been burning before, it was positively on fire now. Sanji crossed and uncrossed his legs repeatedly, trying and failing to conceal the hardness that was tenting his pants. Her hand was soft on his face, and the smell of her skin was different than usual. “I would do anything for you,” he answered honestly, eyes practically popping out of his head as she leaned towards him, sticking her chest out so her tits stretched against the fabric of her shirt.

“Anything?” She repeated innocently, leaning over the center console and gear stick to get closer to him. Now Sanji could feel her body heat, and picked up more of her scent. There was the fresh, fruity smell that seemed to follow her everywhere, along with the salt of her sweat and something else he couldn’t quite place. Nami grasped his chin, and steered his face towards hers. “You promise?”

Sanji nodded rapidly, without hesitation.

“Aw, Sanji. Good.”

When her tongue first shoved itself into his mouth, Sanji could taste the citrus that was so familiar to him - energizing and fresh, just like Nami herself, and he indulged in it as he twisted in his seat, his back pressing into the door as she maneuvered herself on top of him. The longer they kissed, the more Sanji could pick out another flavor as well - it tasted like heat, like cinnamon oil and alcohol combined, fire on her tongue. 

The combination of the two flavors sent shivers down his spine, and Sanji was panting against her in no time at all, his arms holding tight against Nami’s shoulders and waist as she straddled his legs, grinding hard into his knee. Wet fabric rubbed back and forth over his knee, sticky to the touch, and Sanji felt bliss on the tip of every nerve. He had only been lucky enough to have slept with Nami once before, he couldn’t recall her having gotten so wet so quickly. Sanji longed to touch her, to feel her around his fingers, but he kept his hands where they were as their bodies melded together, Nami pressing him into his car door as she kissed him harder.

“Touch me.” Her hand reached and grasped at one of his wrists, pulling it from her back and moving it between her legs, putting the back of his hand against his knee and pushing down against it. “Please.  _ Please.” _

Sanji was  _ more _ than happy to oblige. The rocking motion of her hips had her warm, wet skin sliding easily against his open palm, and he gently curled two fingers and slipped them inside of her, moving them in time with her gyrations. He was overwhelmed by how wet she already was, with moisture dripping down his fingers and pooling in his hand, and he continued to kiss her as she fucked herself on his hand, switching from rocking her hips to openly bouncing up and down. The more she got into it, the harder she kissed him - and the more the taste of tangerines in her mouth was replaced by that peculiar fire.

_ “Do I know this taste? This smell?” _ Sanji found himself wondering, momentarily distracted from Nami pleasuring herself on his hand. Was it just a cinnamon whiskey? That would explain quite a bit if it was, but Sanji felt the strange feeling in his gut from earlier growing slightly stronger.

Suddenly, Nami pulled back, stumbling backwards into her seat again as she slipped right off of Sanji’s fingers. She fell back against her own door, her head rubbing against the fogged-up glass. Sanji caught a brief glimpse of sunglasses pushed back on top of her head, momentarily glinting in the illumination of a streetlight. Red-faced and breathing heavily, Nami fumbled with her clothes, pulling everything to her waist to expose her bare bottom half. 

Sanji looked at his fingers, barely making them out in the darkness of the car. He could see Nami’s wetness glistening on them, and he brought them to his lips to lick them clean. Before he could open his mouth, Nami’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist. She yanked him down towards her, pulling him over the center console, and stuck his fingers into her mouth. Sanji couldn’t help letting out a groan as she sucked hard on his fingers, her tongue stroking off all the wetness she’d left behind.

“Do you like your own taste?” Sanji asked, his voice more nervous than he’d hoped it would be. He couldn’t remember if she’d done that or not last time, but he could feel himself getting harder with every passing second, and it was almost beginning to hurt.

Nami slipped his fingers back out of her mouth and let out a short laugh. “I make special exceptions every now and then…” Legs shaking, she climbed back to Sanji, her ass fully exposed and uncovered. One cheek looked slightly redder than the other, and Sanji thought for a single, heart-stopping moment that he could make out a handprint in her delicate skin.

_ “What sort of friend was she visiting, exactly?” _ Sanji thought to himself as Nami all but yanked his pants to his knees, exposing his cock and quickly taking it into her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down as he arched his back towards her. If it had been another girl...the thought made his cock throb heavily in Nami’s mouth, and he felt her licking him all over eagerly.  _ “Maybe she’ll take me with her next time.” _

With little fanfare, she slipped him back out of her mouth and straddled him, holding her bunched-up shirt in a tight fist at her waist. Sanji twisted in his seat again, holding Nami’s thighs as he swung his legs back in front of his seat by the pedals. Nami’s free hand reached for the lever on the side, and the back of the seat lowered down as far as they could get it. Everything was progressing so quickly, it was almost bewildering - Sanji had taken his time the last time he’d been with Nami, taking time to appreciate every inch of her, pampering her the way she deserved. It didn’t feel fair to her, being bent in all sorts of strange ways in his car. She deserved -

Nami dropped herself down onto his cock, instantly drawing all of him inside of her, and Sanji’s brain ceased to function. Inside, everything was thickly wet and gooey against his skin, and intense bursts of pleasure were radiating all over his body from where they were joined. Sanji’s hands automatically moved on her, clamping tight on her ass, and Nami let out a low hiss of pain. He had never felt her so wet before - had never felt  _ anyone _ so wet before - and the sensation coaxed a low, shuddering gasp from him as he held tight to her.

“Not that side…” She pulled one of his hands away, moving it up to his hip as she bore down harder, grinding herself into place against him. Sanji didn’t object, gratefully squeezing her hip and pulling her against him. He moved his mouth to hers to kiss her deeply and she moved to his neck instead, nipping at the sensitive, sweaty skin as she began riding him, bracing her knees against the seat on either side of his thighs. “There we go...like this...this is good…”

Sanji stared up at her, almost hypnotized as she moved up and down, her tits bouncing freely inside her shirt. Every time she moved, the crept closer to the low cut of the shirt, and Sanji could see the skin glistening with sweat. Her hair was beginning to come loose as she moved more and more rapidly, and Sanji could see where some errant strands had stuck to her neck and chest. In the dim light inside the car, the orange strands looked almost red.

“Haa…” Nami leaned into him, throwing her arms around his neck as she continued riding Sanji, the car quickly filling with their commingled scents - including a trace of the one he’d smelled on her earlier that he still couldn’t place. The sleeves of her shirt, now pressed up towards her shoulders, rubbed against Sanji’s cheeks as she moved. It was slightly rough and scratchy against his skin - it felt like a man’s shirt, not something Nami would be wearing. The mystery scent was even stronger there as well, imbued in the fabric, but Sanji wondered if it wasn’t familiar to him after all. 

But it didn’t matter, of course, and Sanji switched his attention fully to Nami once more, kissing her lips as sweetly as he could as she once again grabbed his hand. He was surprised to feel her placing it directly against her clit, and then shoving her hips forward into his fingertips as her motions grew even stronger. “Don’t move,” she growled into his ear as Sanji tried to adjust his hand the slightest bit. “You said you’d do  _ anything _ for me so  _ don’t move your fucking hand. _ ”

Sanji didn’t move his fucking hand. He laid back against the seat, listening to the rain and Nami’s high-pitched gasps and moans. It felt good, there was no denying it, and he knew he wouldn’t last very much longer with Nami squeezing him so tightly and holding onto him for dear life. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something, no matter how much he tried to focus on Nami as she writhed on top of him. It was hard to concentrate, feeling her tits pressing against his chest, her thighs quivering against his, and her mouth moaning into his ear.

“I’m…” Nami’s voice choked out, breathless and whimpering. “I’m...oh, fuck...I’m…”

Sanji beat her to it, but only just. Trying so hard to not squeeze her too tightly, he pressed his body hard against hers as his hips shoved upwards. Her grip around him tightened and she cried out as he felt himself filling her, and his head jerked against the headrest, eyes screwed shut. Her hands held to the back of his neck, her nails digging into his skin, and all he could smell was sex - no citrus, no fire, nothing else. It was all sex, and it was all  _ her _ .

“God…” As Nami slowly recovered, she leaned back, her face was even more flushed than it had been when she’d first gotten back into the car. She moved slowly, keeping her hips against Sanji to keep him from sliding back out of her. Her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and he could see her nipples pressing through the dark fabric. “Ah...Ow!”

Nami leaned back too far, and smacked her head on the inside of the car. The sunglasses Sanji had seen earlier toppled off her head, bouncing off her shoulder and falling beside the gear stick with a clatter. Looking confused, Nami turned to see what had fallen, and when her eyes fell on the sunglasses, her flushed face quickly drained of all color, her mouth slightly agape.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get them!” Sanji was faster than Nami, even disoriented as he was, and he quickly grabbed the sunglasses, careful to avoid touching the lenses and getting them dirty. “Here you g -”

Sanji’s voice died mid-sentence as he realized what sunglasses he was holding. The frames were black, with lenses the darkest possible red. He knew them, had seen them more than he’d ever cared to. Slowly, Sanji turned his head back to Nami, once again looking over the shirt that was pulled around her waist. He’d seen that shirt before, too, along with the sunglasses, but not on Nami. In his head, he could picture the shirt, the sunglasses, the stupid smirk, the red hair -

_ Red hair stuck to Nami’s skin _ .

He snuck a look at Nami’s face and saw her mouth had closed, thinning into a tight line. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. More thoughts bloomed in his head, each one overlapping the other. The sunglasses. The shirt. The red dress she’d been wearing, now missing.  _ She’d been wearing a  _ **_red_ ** _ dress. _ The taste of fire on her tongue. And - nauseatingly still - how incredibly wet she’d been when he had slipped his fingers inside of her, and how she’d stopped him from licking them clean.

Sanji opened his mouth - still holding his brother's sunglasses, still held tightly inside Nami - and found he had no words.


End file.
